A New Way to Remember
by grace.em
Summary: "We change a memory of our past into a hope for our future." Daryl Dixon is caught off guard when a brilliant, headstrong, young woman is picked up by their group. She challenges his thinking and his actions at every corner, leaving him reeling. He hates everything about the way she makes him feel and is learning to love it all the same. Slightly AU.
1. Caught Unaware

This is my first ever TWD story, I hope you stick with me. I've worked really hard and I'm hoping you fall in love with the main character alongside Daryl. I'll have some Glenn/Maggie stuff thrown in there later, because I love them. Huge shout out to my beta, LavanderSkye, such a workable person. Haha. I've loved working with her so far and I can't wait to see this story through with her every step of the way.

"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future." ~Lewis B. Smedes

enjoy.

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She had always been against guns, from the moment she turned fifteen she had taken that stance. And yet, here she was, holding a gun that she had just fired. And for the first time in her life she had finally understood what people meant when they used the term 'a smoking gun.'

About the time she heard the body hit the floor, the first tear had slid down her face. Letting her hands fall to her sides she fought against her body's urge to drop the gun. Maybe it was because she wasn't sure if there were more people coming to attack her or not; or maybe it was because she once heard that if you drop a gun that's just been fired, its chances of randomly going off were doubled. She wasn't sure of either of these things, but they were enough to keep her grip on the gun from slipping.

She heard someone yell out to her and glanced to the ground, hoping maybe he wasn't dead. Staring intently at the man directly in front of her, she waited for his lips to move or to see his chest rise and fall. Nothing happened. Her eyes drifted back to the woman who was still moving on the ground. Stepping back in alarm, her back connected with the store's display case; hadn't she shot the woman? Wasn't she supposed to die?

More yelling could be heard, and it seemed to be getting louder. She had no idea where these people were coming from, nor did she really want to. Her body began to shake and she noticed she was crying, though she wasn't sure when she had begun. Was it when the woman had first appeared? Or was it after she had ended her life? She willed her body to react, to bring the gun up from her side and aim it at the woman again.

There were murmurings around her as the yelling abruptly ceased. Somewhere inside of her she knew that whoever had been yelling was now in the room with her. But nothing was connected, her ears weren't picking up much anymore. The woman she had just shot was just laying on the floor staring at her. The color of her eyes had long since gone, though she couldn't have told you where to. A hand was on her shoulder, and she jerked away from it like she had been burned.

"Are you okay?" That was the first voice she had heard clearly. It was female but the face she saw when she finally did look up was definitely male. An Asian male.

She heard herself responding with an explanation of what she had just done, with high hopes that whoever this man was, he wouldn't hate her. "I just killed that woman."

But even to her own ears she didn't sound right. She sounded less like a woman who had just killed another, and more like the woman who had just been shot. But she hadn't killed her...had she? She was still moving. Her voice was strained, and she was gasping for air. Looking from the man with kind features in front of her to the woman on the floor, she gasped as an arrow shot straight through the woman's skull. She looked back up in alarm to a man with a bow. It wasn't something she had ever seen before, but she didn't pay much attention to it. Her thoughts were more directed at the fact that he had just shot that woman in her head.

Someone else was speaking now, and it was the man she was looking at, "...don't know? And that was no woman, lady. Just another walker. Who the..." As he continued to speak, it dawned on her, he had been the one yelling. As she tried to clear her brain, she realized that it had been quite vulgar language, and as she thought more about it, she believed it was directed at her. He threw some insult her way, but shortly after was interrupted by another voice. Another man, not the one with the unwashed dark blonde hair who was still cursing at her. Or the one frowning directly in front of her. There was someone else with dark hair and a sheriff's uniform.

His brown eyes kind, he leaned in closer and searched her crystal blue ones. "Have you been bitten?" He asked, his tone less angry and more concerned than the man before. She glanced in confusion from him to a woman on his right with dirty hair and a flushed face. Her jaw felt too heavy, and her brain had lost its way. _Bitten?_ Mustering up all the strength left inside of her, she shook her head. "Scratched?" He pressed. Her memories resurfaced- that woman growling at her, like an inhumane version of a person. Tears pricked painfully at her eyes and rolled down her cheeks freely. She hadn't cried this hard since she was a young teenager and her boyfriend at the time had broken up with her. She shook her head, eyes downcast like a reprimanded child. Inside, she was dying.

Her brain gave out and her limbs turned to jelly. She slid, guided only by the glass case at her back to the floor, and closed her eyes. Loosening her grip on the gun, she finally allowed it to fall from her grasp.

To her eternal dismay, the yelling resumed as though no pause had taken place. There was a great hissing, spitting, and growling throwing itself at her from what seemed to be all directions. Visions of those sounds from the mouth of that woman hit her deep in the gut. She felt the need to vomit. Someone was picking her roughly up off the ground, and to her grave disappointment the gun was well gripped in her palm once more.

The hand was tightening and dragging her further from the sound of the groaning. Her tears had dried up in her lull of activity. And though her eyes were in fact open, her brain couldn't register the scenery fast enough. Before she knew it she was in the back of a truck.

They laid her down and her joints screamed their relief. The man with the dark hair and the kind brown eyes was back in her line of vision. He was talking to her; he was very handsome and she wanted to answer him. Maybe even make him smile, his teeth seemed to be white and she thought he would have to have a nice smile. But her eyes were fluttering, and her ears were filling with water. Black fuzzies were swimming across her vision and her mind was telling her to sleep. She felt herself dragged for awhile longer and then finally, gloriously, they let her lay still.

Someone tried to get her to talk by shaking her roughly. For the bare moment that she opened her eyes to look at the man with kind eyes fully and he seemed relieved. Then her eyes shut and didn't open again. Warmth came over her neck and chest. Her heartbeat was solid, and her ears were just starting to develop a ring. But she was quickly falling asleep and she didn't think it warranted her attention. Her body craved sleep; with the last hour under consideration, she might not see it again soon.

There was giggling. She could hear it, somewhere in the distance. She smiled at the frivolity of the young and was starting to turn over. To call out, to ask her if she wanted pancakes for breakfast. A horrible sight flashed over her eyes and she caught a strangled cry somewhere in the back of her throat. It wasn't Isabelle; it couldn't be, she was dead. She wanted to open her eyes, to make the images leave her head. Filling them instead with whatever was around her, which couldn't be worse than the memories she had. But her body was refusing; her mind was telling her that it wasn't worth it, that she didn't want to open her eyes. She felt trapped inside herself.

She forced her right arm up to her face and rubbed sleepily at her eyes. She was thinking that if she could just open them a little, they would bend to her will. However, the moment her eyes met the harsh light and the stark, chilling air, they began to water. She let out a very unladylike like groan and squeezed her eyes shut.

The giggling stopped and was soon replaced with screams. At first her mind seized and she was frozen in place. Unable to move, to defend herself if need be. Then her mind registered tones and pitches that started to soothe her like a mother soothes a child. Not screams of horror, screams of anger. There was a woman yelling, "She's just another mouth to feed!"

She also heard a man shout that, "She's probably useless, you should've seen 'er back there, can't pull her own."

And her least favorite, "She'll just hold us back, I say we leave 'er in the woods while she's still passed out an' ditch."

Their accents were a little thicker than hers, she supposed they lived further from the city than herself.

Abruptly, the yelling stopped. Keeping her eyes closed she strained her ears to hear what was being said. There were harsh whispers going around now, one said something about being careful because they didn't want to wake her. She tasted the bitterness of the tone on her own tongue, and she wished to spit it out. What had she ever done to deserve such brutal tones?

There was another person, another woman. She had a motherly touch to her voice, yet it was also somewhat authoritative. She suggested they should see if she was still asleep before they continue the discussion. Sounded more like an argument when it had reached her ears.

There was a zipper being zipped, or unzipped rather. She heard someone step into what she thought to be a tent, and rezip the flap. After a moment of silence there was a feminine chuckle, "I know you're awake." She heard her say. It was the same woman that suggested that they check on her.

"How?" she asked, genuinely curious. She hadn't even twitched an eyelid since this woman had entered. Her voice was crackling, and she bit back the urge to cough as her throat felt like she was trying to swallow sandpaper.

Another chortle, "My daughter. She tries to fool me as well, I suppose I've picked up on the signs. My name is Carol." She sounded kind enough, but her tone was hushed. As if she didn't want the others to know they were speaking. "How much did you hear?" she questioned lightly. Not in an accusatory sense, more of an 'I'll explain what I can' way.

Instead of getting an answer Carol got another question, "What signs?" She asked groggily in reference to the other woman's previous comment.

"Unsteady breathing, and you were unnaturally still," she answered coolly. "How much did you hear?" she repeated.

She took a deep breath, and answered with her eyes still closed, "I think I tried to stop listening at 'let's leave her in the woods and ditch.' But I'm not sure when I started." she answered hotly. Her brain was still quite fuzzy from waking up, and every time she wondered why her brain was fuzzy, all she could hear was a gunshot. The gunshot from her gun, the gunshot that ended another's life. That poor woman, her blood now rested on another's hands. Her hands.

"We won't do that, I assure you. That was Amy, she was just joking. I promise." Carol spoke softly still, but now she recognized a touch of a soothing vibe. The kind she remembered being in her mother's voice when something upsetting had occurred.

She considered opening her eyes, but the memory of the burning that had occurred last time kept her from actually going through with the action. "So what will you do with me then?" she asked, concerned that she was in the midst of people who would joke about leaving another human to starve in the woods by themselves.

"Not sure," was her reply, "Whatever the decision, you won't be left for dead."

A laugh, a genuine laugh, bubbled from inside her. The kind that starts in your gut, and bounces up through your throat before erupting from your lips. She finally opened her eyes and looked over to the woman named Carol; She had short grey hair and was fairly good looking. The look of confusion that passed over Carol's features made her laugh even harder.

Somewhere inside of her she recognized that there was no longer any talking happening outside of the tent. There were tears in her eyes again, but this time she wasn't so sure that it was a result of opening her eyes. There was a very good chance that they were from the laughter.

With that thought in mind, she wondered how many other times she had laughed so hard that she had cried. And she could only come up with one...

_She had walked outside to see a fairly attractive boy sitting on one of the benches. After a few moments passed she had realized that he was smoking. What he was smoking remained unknown until further inspection, but she had a hunch that what he was smoking wasn't a cigarette. She walked around to the front of him. He gave her a once over, her clean, virgin-like appearance made him smirk. He held something she had been warned against out to her, and raised his eyebrows in a challenging way. A joint. That's what he was smoking; or so she assumed. And there lied her problem, she never backed down from a challenge. Ever._

_Reaching her hand out slowly, she pinched the foul smelling object and brought it closer to her face. She looked over to him, confusion gracing her delicate features. "How do I...?" She left the question open, but he seemed to understand._

_With a cool exterior he began to show her, "Inhale till you feel like you're gonna cough," A long hit, a smirk, and a pause later: "hold it in till you feel like you're gonna pass out," he said in an attempt to keep the intoxicating smoke in and gestured to himself. "Exhale slowly." He dragged out the words, and looked intently at her, raising his eyebrows in question. He seemed indifferent to the apparent knowledge that this was her first time experimenting with drugs. She nodded quickly, her head already swimming, and followed his instructions as best she could. The first several hits, as he had called them, had made her cough and gag. But after that she hardly noticed if she had done it again. She had even wondered if it had indeed happened the first few times, for it all felt like a dream._

_About thirty minutes later she was laying in the dew covered grass, repeating the words "I'm so high right now" over and over again. It was almost as if she was saying it to believe it, for she sounded like she believed the sentence less and less the more it reached her ears. After awhile the principal had found them. She expelled the boy for using on school property again and gave her a two week suspension. They had been dragged to the school office and picked up from the school by their parents._

_She remembered she had been sent to her room, but she couldn't remember the last time she had felt that peaceful. A fit of laughter accompanied with tears promptly followed, when she thought that she would never again feel like this. While it did eventually evolve into just tears when she began to realize what she'd done, and how grounded she was actually going to be, but she still looked upon the memory fondly._

"What's so funny?" Carol asked, feeling the laughter stir in her as well.

"...I have no idea," she said after a moment of rare joy. "None what so ever."

But even after their laughter had ceased, a small smile still graced her lips.

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Yeah? No? Let me know!


	2. The Benefit of The Doubt

Okay. Chapter two. I got literally no feedback on the last chapter until about two minutes ago (JerkDestroyer, you just made my night with your review. Thanks.) and I'm hoping that it's because it was from the viewpoint of my OC only... If I don't get any feedback over the next few chapters, I'll probably drop the story. I don't want to put in a ton of time and effort and then make my beta sift through it only to have no one enjoy it.

Rant finished. Thank you to LavanderSkye who is overcoming all sorts of obstacles to even edit this and then dealing with all of my silly messages in between. :)

enjoy.

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Reaching her right arm up and to her left she began to stretch. A shot of pain that began low in her spine raced up through her back and assaulted her senses. She gasped slightly at the yelp of pain that escaped through her lips. She laid back down as quickly and quietly as possible, it's not that she felt she was in danger, she just didn't want to approach these strange campers yet. Maybe if she waited a few moments and no one came, she could get up slowly, sneak out, and be long gone before they noticed the lack of her presence.

No such luck.

She heard the now-familiar sound of a tent flap being opened and tried to steady her breathing and loosen her body, just in case it was Carol again. "Are you awake?" she heard someone, it definitely wasn't Carol. This girl's voice was even softer, it was kind and young. By lying still and not answering she felt she was somehow lying to this girl. So she turned her head to the right a little and mumbled a few incoherent words to her.

"Hmm?" the woman responded. "I'm Amy, Carol sent me in to check on you. It's almost lunchtime and you still haven't come out to eat anything yet... So we were a little worried, is everything okay?" She looked at the teenager and smiled slightly. The girl reminded her of her sister in a few ways. Her eyes seemed void of any fear one could hold and she had a gentle smile. Her voice was so unobtrusive and non-violent. "Here, why don't you sit up?." Amy shifted the covers off of her so she didn't have to do anything to be able to sit up. She tried not to let her wince show as she forced her body into an upright position at girl's insistence.

Amy then stuck her hand out to greet the girl properly, "Like I said, I'm Amy, it's nice to meet you." She began to bring her arm forward when the pain she had felt briefly before came back full force and she dropped it back and into her lap, not thinking a thing of it. "I promise I don't bite." Amy insisted with a small laugh at her own joke.

"Oh. My arm's just hurting...I'm Alice. I didn't think you would bite me," she insisted, massaging her forearm for good measure.

"Well, you never can be sure nowadays, can you?" The sadness in Amy's eyes left confusion in Alice's.

With wrinkled eyebrows, she asked a rhetorical question, "That someone might bite you?" When she met Amy's eyes a moment later, something seemed to dawn on the both of them: Alice was unaware of something. Amy seemed to be shifting her feet and looking anywhere but at her. "Should I be concerned that someone would bite me?" Alice questioned with confusion lacing her every syllable.

Amy seemed to be considering this question for a moment before whispering out an answer. "Not someone. Something." Alice merely chuckled, giving off a vibe that lacked concern Amy tried something else. "How about we get you up and out to the fire. I'm sure someone can explain all this to you."

After a few failed attempts at making herself get out of bed, she was finally walking out of the tent and joining the rest of the group around the fire. It seemed to be a pretty healthy mix; several races, different ages, clean, dirty, mean, nice. The first thing that caught her eye was the attractive man with kind eyes standing talking to a young boy. When she got closer, the boy focused on her and the man turned around. He smiled and began making his way over to her, leaving the boy with a woman.

As he approached her, he extended his hand in a slow and cautious manner so as not to startle her. "I'm Rick," he revealed. She moved to shake his hand, but thought better of it when she remembered her pain from earlier.

"I'm Alice. My arm hurts." She mentioned in way of explanation. He nodded and moved to introduce her to the rest of the people staring at her, and she gave everyone a small smile, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

The first person she noticed was an Asian kid who looked no more than twenty-two,with only about one hundred and thirty pounds on him. He noticed her gaze was settled on him and made his way forward. "I'm Glenn, it's nice to meet you. I know you've already met Carol and Amy but that right there-" He was pointing at a blonde woman who looked like she had a stick up her ass, "is Andrea, Amy's sister. Next to her is Lori, that's Rick's wife." Lori gave a small smile in return. "Carl is Rick and Lori's son." The small boy waved at her in a way that showed he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be excited or not.

Glenn fell silent when an older man with a floral shirt and a fishing hat on stepped forward. A few of the people had mismatched outfits and it was clear some of the clothing they wore wasn't theirs, but the fishing hat this man had on seemed to be his. The ring of sweat around it showed it had aged along with him. "I'm Dale." Unlike the last two people to meet her, he didn't go for a handshake, but went to hug her instead.

She smiled as his arms wrapped around her. It had been a long time since someone had hugged her. She welcomed the embrace with no resistance, though she couldn't tell you why. It must have been his eyes and smile. They were so kind and inviting. He, to put it simply, just came off as someone she could trust. So she did.

She heard a small scuffle from behind her and the air around her seemed to shift. There was someone approaching from behind them, and they weren't being quiet about it either. She heard more, than saw a pile of dead squirrels be thrown onto the ground next to the fire. Her face scrunched up slightly before she could think better of it. "That's your dinner, pretty girl, so I'd try not to think too much about it." She recognized that voice.

It took her about a fraction of a second to realize that he had been the one yelling at her in the mall, and then insulting her outside of the tent the day prior. She spun to face the rude male and refused to let his good looks affect her anger toward him. "I don't know what you think you know about me, but how about you give me the benefit of the doubt here. I'm in the middle of the woods with a ton of strangers who pretty much kidnapped me from a mall yesterday. Could someone please explain what is going on here?" She huffed slightly at the ending of her rant.

Daryl paused for a moment in quiet admiration of her forwardness, but he played it off as annoyance. "Movies. You ever watch 'em? How 'bout the ones that show people eating other people. Dying and then getting back up again. Infecting the entire population? Sound familiar?"

When Alice didn't respond, he gestured wildly around them. "That's your reality now. Don't trust people you don't know. Don't hesitate. Don't doubt your abilities and your instincts or you'll just be another walker. Got it, lady?" His voice showed his slight amusement toward her state of fluster.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

"You remember that woman you shot at the mall? That "human"? Well, she wanted to eat your pretty little face. Yeah, _really_. Now," He dropped down to one knee and grabbed a squirrel by the tail. He stood back up and waved it in front of her face. "How about the squirrel?"

She backed up slightly to avoid the dead animal touching her face, but he only advanced on her. She stepped back again but stumbled over her own feet and landed on the ground. She tried to brace herself and ended up hurting her arm further. She yelped in pain and cradled the injured arm in her lap.

"You want the benefit of the doubt around here?" he chuckled bitterly. "Why don't you try and walk first?" he mocked before turning to leave the crowd that had gathered. Glenn had stepped forward to help Alice up, but she had already scrambled to her feet. Letting her hurt arm dangle and using the other to wipe away a few stray tears, she began to follow the rude man.

"Damn you," she reproached. "You think you're all tough and manly, but a real man has the ability to be delicate. I sincerely pity the parents who raised you." She knew she was being unreasonable and that, just as she had requested the benefit of the doubt, she should have given it. She was hurt though, she was in pain and confused and embarrassed.

He hesitated in his stride and turned to face her fully once more. "Listen here, if you had known the man who raised me, you'd pity me. Now go off to that little Chinese boy and cry on his shoulder." Daryl scanned her body in what appeared to be disgust. He wouldn't admit it even to himself, but he wanted to make sure she wasn't hurt anywhere. From an onlooker, no concern would be visible. His eyes were about half way back up her body when her hand met the side of his face. His eyes ripped angrily back up to meet hers and they were wild.

"Damn. You." she spit out. She turned on her heel and stormed away from the fire pit in frustration.

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:) Any questions, comments, concerns? There's a box directly below here created for just those things! Feel free to use and abuse it so that I don't feel all alone in my life.


	3. Death in the air

Sorry it's so late! I meant to have this up earlier, my wonderful new beta - JerkDestroyer - had this done and ready to fire hours ago, but I wasn't at home. Anyway! Chapter three, this follows directly after the previous chapter. Let me know what you think. I've had lots of follows and favorites, but not a lot of reviews... :P They're the bread to my butter... :)

enjoy.

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Her feet had taken her in the opposite direction of the fire pit. She hadn't had a place in mind she might have been heading, but she had ended up on the other side of a camper. Red raging heat was still creeping along her face, she couldn't remember a time she had been so angry over so little.

"Are you okay?" a small voice came from behind.

Alice jumped and turned to face him, her heart fluttering rapidly. Her hand clutched her chest as if she was trying to press it back down. "Um..." there were two of them, both young. A boy with dark hair and a face covered in freckles, smiling at her. Carl, she remembered his name to be. Then a girl, her shoulder length, blonde hair matted with sweat, and clinging to her forehead. In much the same way she was clutching a doll-like it was the last thing in the world she had. Which, considering what Alice had just heard, may be more true than the little girl knew.

The children exchanged glances with one another, and the boy gave her what she recognized as a reassuring smile. "Daryl can be mean sometimes, but you get used to it. I avoid him mostly." He sounded innocent. Like he had no idea what was going on. But his voice belied what was hidden in his eyes. Lying in wait in those lively brown eyes, was a malice and a hardness that far exceeded his age. It was a hard thought to grasp, people eating others. And then there is a group of crazy people in the middle of it, which held a small, sweet, innocent boy. How strange.

"Me too." the girls voice was even smaller, like she rarely used it. And had forgotten how loud you would normally use your voice.

"Thanks." Alice whispered. The boy leaned over to the girl and whispered something to her, her face lit up and she began to giggle like she hadn't a care in the world.

"Carl says that you hit Daryl," She dropped her head down and looked up at Alice through her lashes, "He deserved it." she said in a smaller voice. The fact that this little girl was still smiling and overly giddy about the slapping of this man, Daryl, they had called him, amused Alice. The young girl's face fell slightly, and she began shuffling her feet in the dirt. Her expression now one of concern. "He didn't hit you back, did he?" she whispered quietly.

"Sophia!" the young boy said hotly, his eyes angry and scared.

"It's okay," Alice said quickly, glancing at him, sinking on one knee to be at their level, "Really."

Sophia tried to catch his eye before looking back at Alice, but her companion had looked away from them. Like he would rather not be having this conversation, or he knew that they shouldn't be having it.

The girl's large, dilated, brown orbs were staring back at her and Alice felt her heart breaking for a moment. She would kill him if he had ever laid a hand on this girl. She tried to level out her voice, but she didn't think she quite hit the mark. "No, he didn't. He doesn't hit you, does he?" Alice had been in an abusive house at one point and she knew what it felt like, you tend to be more concerned with other's well-being, ignoring your own. Out of a lack of self-worth you grow to hold. Alice watched the girl's eyes widen in shock, she almost seemed angry about the accusation.

"No." she said harshly. "Daryl doesn't..." she clarified in a smaller voice. Alice nodded, the rest of the sentence was partially understood, maybe this Daryl character didn't. But someone did.

Nodding briefly as Sophia looked away from her, Alice glanced to see Carl glowering with his arms folded over his chest. "I'm Alice, you're Sophia?" she said with a smile extending her left hand to the little girl.

"Yep," She answered taking the offered hand and shaking it. "And this is Darla!" she added holding up her doll for closer inspection. Alice took her thumb and forefinger and shook Darla's hand as well.

"It's nice to meet you Sophia and Darla!" she looked to the boy who was still smiling. "And you are Carl if I remember correctly?"

"Yeah, Carl. But I don't have a doll or even an action figure." She wasn't sure if he was disappointed with this information or proud, for neither his tone nor his body language hinted at either.

"That's alright, you don't need one. You can just..."

There was a loud, booming yell that made them all turn in its direction. "Sophia! Where you at!?" Sophia's eyes widened, her right eyebrow pulling in searching for the comfort of its twin, and her bottom lip quivered. She instinctively brought her shoulders forward and bent her knees slightly, she was cowering. Alice didn't know who had yelled, but whoever it was, Sophia's knees were all but knocking together at the thought of him.

"That's my daddy, I...I better go before he gets angry." without another word to Alice or Carl, Sophia ran off towards the voice, her shoulders still hunched forward. _Before_ he gets angry? It sounded like he was already furious. She had just disappeared around the other side of the camper when they heard a sharp cry. Alice rose to her feet, and stared off in the general direction of the outburst.

"I better go too," She threw a quick glance at Carl again. His voice was straining, his eyes were trained at the ground, and he was alternately clenching and unclenching tight fists at his sides. She didn't know if he knew she could see, but his fingernails were biting into his skin, leaving crescent indentions in his palms. "It's getting darker and my momma don't like me away from her at night, they get more active then, the walkers, I mean." Carl said quickly. Wasting no time he turned around and walked the path that Sophia had moments before, though he kept his shoulders back and had a slight skip in his step.

The skies got darker and the noise from behind her got quieter. Alice wasn't sure how long she had been standing in this exact spot, but her legs were beginning to ache, so she sat. Making sure there wasn't anything on the ground under her, she got comfortable, and began to hum quietly to fill the silence she was trying so desperately to ignore.

The longer she sat the more concern creeped into her head, silence has a way of doing that to people. What about her family? Had they made it out alive? Were they dead? Were they walkers? Was there even a difference? Alice could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes and she felt nauseous. Her head felt too light and she couldn't breath.

Leaning forward, she tried to stand but ended up on her knees. Her stomach lurched and she gagged, but nothing accompanied it. She thought maybe she should yell for someone, but the last thing she needed was for Daryl to think that she couldn't even handle standing up. And they might think that she was being attacked by one of those things, walkers they had called them.

Before she could stop it, her stomach was pushing its contents up through her throat and out of her mouth. She tried to be quiet so no one got concerned, but the ringing in her ears and the tears in her eyes were too overwhelming, she wasn't even sure how to be quiet. She felt more vomit deciding it would rather reside on the ground than inside of her stomach. She struggled to keep it off of herself as it came out her nose as well.

She blinked to clear the tears from her eyes, and wiped her mouth and nose with the back of her hand. She felt shaky on her feet when she finally stood, but at least she could stand. The ringing in her ears had gone, replaced with throbbing in her temples and an overall ache in her bones. She could taste the stomach acid on her lips and her eyes were still wet though the tears had passed. Her eyelids drooped slightly and she spit in an attempt to rid her mouth of the horrid taste her barfing-fest had left behind.

She heard shuffling from behind her and assumed it was someone coming to check up on her, it had probably startled someone, hearing her throw up. Growing up her family had always told her she was a loud barfer. Or, maybe it was a walker and they had indeed left her for dead in the forest. She let a small laugh leave her mouth at the thought and turned around,.She felt her stomach lurch again when she realized this was not someone coming to check up on her; but it was indeed some_thing_ coming after her for a late night snack.

The shriek was shrill, that was for sure, she had let out a terrible screech. It wasn't just her though, there were others. She began looking for something, anything to stop this thing from attacking her. Panic began to set in. About the time she realized that she couldn't see anything to gain an the upper-hand in this fight she also realized that this walker already had the advantage: fear.

Gunshots rang out and she began to wonder if they had been there before, but she came to the conclusion that, no, they had not in fact been there before. Alice realized that she would be safer if she was further from this walker and closer to whoever had the gun. Commanding her feet to move, she ran as fast as she could, only to be pulled back by a rough hand. A very insistent and rough hand.

With a very exasperated gasp she spun and hit what she had assumed was a walker grabbing her arm, until she heard, "Ahh! What the hell woman?" It was Daryl. She smirked. She had hit him twice now. He pulled her harder than she felt was necessary, effectively making her fall the very ground she had just occupied. Alice watched in horror as Daryl lifted up something she had seen him use once or twice, a bow she thought, aimed it at the zombie and shot it. Straight through the head. A scream was heard closer to the tents, but she didn't have time to react because her arm was being gripped once more and drug in that direction by Daryl's hand. /_He has nice hands, strong hands._ She noted in passing.

Her vision hazy, her brain foggy, her feet were barely working. Daryl kept dragging her until they came up behind a row of tents. He motioned for her to stay put, raised his bow, and rounded the corner. She never would have thought she would ever want to have a gun in her hands this badly. The look in Daryl's eyes when he first rounded the corner of the tent made her stomach drop. Fear, he was afraid. This bad-ass, passionate, scared-of-nothing man was afraid of something right next to her. He hesitated for only a second, but it was still one second too long for her liking.

Taking aim he took out several more walkers and ripped the bolts back out of their heads as he passed them. Her stomach was still sensitive and it clenched at the slurping sound that accompanied the removal of his arrows. He was using his foot to smash the few bodies still trying to get off of the ground, presumably by their craving of flesh. Something wet touched her hand and she screamed. Casting her gaze backwards, she watched as another form slumped to the ground. Her breath left her in one fowl swoop, like pressure had been applied to her chest. A deep breath made the stench in the air more prominent. Death. The air smelled like rotting flesh and death.

Her stomach lurched again, and she paused to empty more of her stomach. Her vision was spinning and she felt like she was back in that department store once again.

_Humming along to what used to be her favorite song but was now just a very mundane reminder of how much she hated her piece of shit car, she drove home. Not only was the CD stuck, the song was on repeat and the radio wasn't working right; it had been on the fritz for hours. But an annoying song was better than the silence. The street seemed almost abandoned, which was strange, it was almost lunch time. People were always out and about around lunch time. Right? Or had she been on break for so long that things had changed._

_She went to visit her family, who lived a little farther from the city than she did; a lot farther. A bit more up the road and to her left she saw one of her favorite stores growing up. Every piece of jewelry she had purchased up until the age of eighteen had been from there, after her eighteenth birthday she had discovered Hot Topic and went through a faze of thick eye liner and skirts that would have made her father cry if he had ever seen them. She chuckled at the image of herself at that age. Feeling a little dare devilish she turned into the parking lot without a blinker. Alice smiled thinking that Isabelle would have berated her all throughout the store for that because it was 'illegal, unwise, and it doesn't matter if no one is around, it's still wrong.' It's moments like that when she would hear her sister quoting Scarlette Jo Hansen from The Perfect Score, "No, you don't. Because a victimless crime is still a crime." A shake of her head later and she was unbuckling her seat belt._

_For the first time since putting her car in park she really looked around at the parking lot, it was like a ghost town, no one was here. The car directly in front of her gave her an unsettling feeling, the driver's door was open. Alice furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly to the right, she couldn't even form a reason in her brain as to why someone would leave their car door open. Reaching for her door handle she decided she would grab some good old southern politeness from deep down and close their door for them._

_She didn't consider herself to have an extremely weak stomach, it just reacted to retched things; like the smell that was currently laced into the dry Georgia air and assaulting her lungs. There was no escaping it, or so it seemed. She began to jog to the door, maybe their air conditioning would lessen the burn at the back of her throat and her eyes. She had never smelled something so terrible. Like a skunk and a bear had together created a whole new type of animal that shit out little pieces of hell, this smell being the product of said shit. Blinking rapidly she rushed to the door._

_The automatic doors didn't open at her presence so she walked slightly to the left glancing above her at the out sign she opened the door to find, unfortunately, that not only did the smell not get better, it actually seemed to get worse, as did the intensity of the heat. Maybe something was wrong with their AC unit and had someone come to fix it? No. That didn't explain the horrid stench or the absence of population. Gagging once or twice, but still just ending up dry heaving, as she hadn't eaten anything in hours, she was too curious to just leave. grabbing a shirt off of a table in the middle of the foyer she placed it over her mouth with high hopes to block out the deadly scent._

_No such luck. The smell seemed to have permeated the very fibers of the shirt. Feeling slightly dizzy she sank to her knees and decided to use her own shirt. Unlike what you normally saw when at ground level in a store, a child hiding inside a rack and giggling when someone walks by, or a few articles of clothing littering the floor, or maybe the occasional wrapper, she saw a body. Recoiling her entire body in fear, her back hit the metal detector at the entrance. A few calming breaths through the thick fabric of her well worn shirt and she began to advance on her hands and knees, the slow approach allowed her to examine what was in front of her. A man. In a police uniform. There was blood everywhere. "Sir?" Her tentative question rang out in the abandoned store. Maybe this was why everyone was gone. A dead body would also be a reason for the stench. Or, maybe he wasn't dead... She studied his chest and saw it raise slightly, then fall again._

_Oh thank God! A sigh escaped her lips and she approached with less caution, he was an officer of the law, after all. His breathing was definitely shallow and strained. "Sir?" She repeated more pronounced this time, knowing he was alive. His eyes snapped to hers and they narrowed, he didn't hold a particular expression, and from what she could tell he seemed disoriented. His hand started to move towards her and she extended hers as well. Wasn't anyone coming for him? Something cold and sticky landed in her palm, glancing down she saw it was his service weapon. His gun. His blood covered gun. "Run." His hoarse whisper confused and gave her a definite sense of dread._

_From what? To where?_

_She was about to ask those questions when she heard a growl, an animal like growl. Was there a dog in the store?_

* * *

Funny story, my father was talking about this television show (Vikings?), don't know if you've heard of it, but he was comparing it to TWD. He kept bringing up how my show wasn't even in the realm of possibilities, etc, etc.

"Not unless someone weaponizes bath salts." My mother added helpfully.

Brilliant. Love my family!


	4. Of squirrels and memories

I've had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you guys are enjoying reading it. If you are, a quick review would let me know and boost my moral... :) Thank you to JerkDestroyer for stepping in temporarily as a beta when mine quit on me.

enjoy.

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Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Daryl, his face twitched in aggravation, "Nah. She's alive," He sounded slightly disappointed. She tried not to let her smile show, but she could definitely get used to waking up to his face more often than not. He was an attractive man, after all. Her body failed her again, a smile brushed her features. "What?" It sounded like a warning. She just lay, shaking her head back and forth quickly she bit her bottom lip but her smile only grew. Daryl leaned back on his heels and gathered his things from around him, and she watched him stand in a huff and storm off mumbling something about women and their ways.

"Alice!" Her smile began to slip as she didn't recognize the voice. Clearing her throat she closed her eyes again and focused on keeping the disgust off of her face when the man scanned her body in an obscene way. "I'm so glad you're okay! I was really worried there for a moment, sweetheart." Sweetheart...? His eyes scanned her body again in a way that suggested it wasn't just to make sure she was okay. "I'm Shane, don't think we were introduced before."

Alice opened her mouth to say that she was fine, having every intention of walking away afterwards when his knuckles brushed her cheek, recoiling was out of the picture, but she wasn't leaning in either. The swallow she attempted to make was cut short by the lack of saliva in her mouth. "Alice, I'm so glad you're okay..." Amy trailed off when she saw what she thought was a moment between Shane and her new-found friend. With every intention of walking away and giving them their peace, she looked into Alice's eyes, expecting to see them on Shane and relieved, happy, aroused maybe? Anything but repulsion. "Do you need some help up?" No harm done, right? If she told her to get lost, there was a moment, but if she agreed, maybe she read the situation wrong, initially.

Nervous eyes snapped to hers and a shaky Alice jumped at the idea of help. She saw Shane attempt to put his arm around her for support but Alice just reached forward and grabbed Amy's hands pulling herself up and walking quickly in the opposite direction. She linked her arm with Amy's and all but ran away from Shane. For the first time she glanced around her and saw all the bodies, walkers and humans alike. She recognized a few faces, but no one she really knew and loved. She needed to get away from here, from Shane, from all this death. Grabbing Glenn's arm on her way past him, she dragged the two of them away from the fire pit.

Daryl drug his knife swiftly over the squirrel, barely paying attention yet knowing he was being incredibly accurate, as he had been doing this since he was eight. Spitting to his left,he took a deep breath and tried to force his thoughts away from the new girl, Alice, which was what they had called her. She was quite the firecracker, all scared and innocent one minute, slapping people the next. Well, that's not entirely true, she had only slapped him. But it had been twice, so he felt he could say that she was feisty. But she was nice to look at and she hadn't done anything else to provoke him since then, so he just kept anything Merle would have done to himself. Clenching his jaw, he mentally punished himself for continuing to think about her, she wasn't worth his time, she wasn't worth anything!

He blew out an aggravated breath and squinted his eyes at his hands; he had looked up at the sky for too long leaving his vision susceptible to invasion by blotchy, colorless spots. The sun was beating down so harsh he felt like swimming in a lake. He hadn't done that since he was nine, and that was when Merle had suggested water wrestling and Daryl had almost drowned. Shaking his head, he attempted to keep his mind off of Merle and Alice, but he could only think of one thing to take his mind off of them. Cigarettes. He hadn't had one in over three days, and for a guy who used to smoke a pack and a half a day, that was a big deal. Bigger than big. It was pretty huge.

He felt himself smiling at the prospect of enjoying a good smoke. The apocalypse wouldn't be as bad if he could chain smoke. Snatching another squirrel from his pile, he flipped it onto its back and began his working his sick and twisted magic on the poor creature. He had frowned when he realized that for the first time since all this shit went down, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to laugh with someone, to talk. He felt himself craving human contact. He wanted to enjoy the sticky Georgia air with someone equally annoyed with the situation he found himself in. Just when he felt like throwing down his weapon and the dead animal in his hand out of anger he heard the most amazing sound he had ever come across. A tingle ran down his spine and settled itself deep within his gut. He didn't like the feeling. Not only was it incredibly foreign, it had an enjoyable quality to it; the last thing any Dixon needed in a zombie apocalypse was something to enjoy. Especially if it was feeling oriented.

His body was against his mind in this, his ears perking up at the sound, laughter. He had heard plenty of people laugh before, that was nothing new. But this laugh. This was one of those laughs that you can't help but crack a smile in response to, and crack a smile is exactly what he did. As she came closer the sound got louder, only stirring the warmth already settling itself deep inside; he was trying to fight it, he really was. But this was just about the best sound he had ever heard, and he had been with some pretty vocal women in his life. Wait. Not only did the feeling just leave, it left in its wake a sickness, and he felt like barfing. So maybe comparing Alice to the other women who had frequented his bedroom wasn't the best idea.

A giggle, it was loud, they must be close. But where? He was a hunter, he should be able to pinpoint where this noise was coming from, but he couldn't. The woman screwed not only with his body but his senses. The laughing stopped almost immediately, and murmuring made itself evident. He heard her greet him in an unusually cheery mood, and he quickly realized that she had brought others along as well. She rounded on him and glanced down at his hands. He expected her to be repulsed, to make a comment maybe. That was reasonable, but what he didn't expect was for her to smile and join him on the ground. He felt the warmth rapidly returning and he tried not to associate it with her, so he did the one thing he had done since he was a kid, he deflected. Demanding of her why she was over here, in response she raised an eyebrow in much the same way that a mother would do when reprimanding a child.

"I'm on a walk." She answered, her voice lathered in offense.

"Damnit woman, this is the apocalypse, you can't just take a fuckin'stroll 'cause you feel like it. You could die." He started out angry, but the roughness in his voice slowly deluded to exhaustion when the realization set in that she could have died.

"I brought people with me, and weapons. I'm a grown woman, so I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do." She was testing Daryl Dixon's already low supply of patience. Where did she get off? Talking back, bein' an ass. It became so eerily quiet that Alice chanced a glance in Amy and Glenn's direction to see they were wearing matching expressions of shock. Eyebrows raised, mouths open, Glenn seemed like he was ready to take flight at any moment. It was as if no one ever talked to the man, let alone put him in his place. He surely didn't seem to mind.

He threw the squirrel down to the ground and stood up to tower over her; intimidation. The one thing he was good at. Taking two steps forward as slowly as possible to build up the tension, he was planning what to say in his head. He didn't want to yell, sometimes it's taken as a random outburst, he didn't want her to think he was crazy. But getting in her personal space and whispering something harsh, that sounded like a good plan. Two more steps and he would be in the prime position.

He moved his left foot forward and heard a crunch. Glancing down he realized that he had just stepped on the squirrel he had thrown down moments before. A curse slipped from his lips, but he was just going to ignore it and continue with the plan, more intense right? Step on a squirrel, then get in someone's face and be creepy, it would have added to the result, except someone started gagging behind him. Great. The stupid Asian had a weak stomach? Glancing behind him he saw it wasn't the weird Chinese kid but Andrea's little sister, Amy. She looked like she was about to pass out.

If he were a nicer person he would have apologized and tried to aid her. But he wasn't a nice person, he was a mean person. So he did what Merle taught him to do, he kicked it towards Amy. But instead of the usual smirk that rested upon his face after he pushed someone to discomfort, he wore a frown. There was no amusement in what he had just done, he didn't feel accomplished, this time he felt sick. Again. He even felt kind of bad for doing it, being as she looked like she might die. He was seriously contemplating walking forward to pick it up, an apology even hanging in the air over his thick head, but Alice beat him to it. She pushed past him, roughly slamming her shoulder into him and led Amy away from Daryl's tent.

Alice. Oh god, the woman he had been practically giddy about hearing a mere noise from her mouth had just watched him do something incredibly cruel to a teenager who hadn't provoked him at all. His shoulders fell and he felt guilty, it had been awhile since he had felt that way too. He let a small sigh escape his lips. When had he started feeling like this? Like an insecure teenager? Like Amy. Like he was just trying to find his place in the world. He felt kind of shitty, and it was because he was hurting people, good people. He hadn't ever cared before, so what had changed?

Alice. That's what.

Another sigh made its way outside and he looked down at his feet, blood and guts of the squirrel layering themselves on top of the dirt already on his boot and pant's leg. He had grown up around people who cared for no one but themselves, and it was that he hadn't realized that it wasn't the norm till his first girlfriend had so rudely informed him of such a development. He was about to throw his knife down and storm off when he realized that the Chinese kid was still just hovering. "What?" He demanded loudly. He watched him as he shook his head slowly backing up, probably afraid. Daryl's eyes widened and Glenn sped up, words of warning were on Daryl's tongue but nothing came out.

He wanted so desperately to tell him to stop walking, be careful, but nothing happened. He just watched as Glenn took a few more steps and ran into Merle's motorcycle. Glenn felt it tipping under the force of his body's weight. He spun around, trying with everything inside to turn fast enough and stop the bike from falling; maybe if he was lucky he would have simply bumped the bike rather than ram into it, causing it to tip over and smash into the ground. But he didn't, he couldn't. He cringed as her heard the very distinct sound of something cracking.

His stomach dropped and his face paled; well, if Daryl wasn't going to kill him earlier, he definitely was now. Glenn, the pizza delivery boy, was about to die at the hands of Daryl, master murderer extraordinaire. He swallowed a ragged breath and turned to see Daryl's face twitching, his barely contained anger visible on his face. Well, it's now or never. Glenn didn't hesitate a second longer, he said a hasty "I'm so sorry!", turned on his heel and proceeded to run to Dale. Because Dale had guns. A lot of guns.

Daryl was torn, does he chase after the punk and pound him mercilessly and possibly ruin any chance at getting a piece of Alice, or sit in pity thinking of how he screwed himself over with the whole 'I'm a bad ass, so I'm gonna kick a squirrel at a little girl.' thing. Who was he trying to impress? Merle? No one even knew where the hell he was, or what state he was in. Dead, undead, barely surviving. Why was he trying so hard to uphold an image that he never liked in the first place? The thought of what he liked and disliked about himself made he thought back to one of his last days of school, ninth grade, a week and a half before he dropped out.

_He sat in the uncomfortable plastic office chair waiting for Mrs. Bigby to talk to him. He was required to participate in half an hour of therapy after lunch everyday. Someone had seen him shoot, kill, and skin a squirrel and now everyone thinks he's a murderer. He had always kept his head down anyways, because Merle hadn't exactly given the Dixon's a good name when he was in school, so when he walked into a room, people moved as far away from the youngest Dixon brother as they possibly could, taking anything valuable along with them. He tried to take after Merle, to harden himself to those around him, ignore their potentially hurtful actions; but he wasn't like Merle._

_"Daryl Dixon, I'm ready for you." She sounded so happy, always perky when he saw her. He stood slowly, attempting to be antagonizing. He knew what to expect, if he sat quietly for the first few minutes while she rambled about respect and feelings, then ignored or dodged all of her questions for the next few, insulted her constantly, and made comments about death and destruction as often as he cold fit in, then she would let him out after twenty minutes and she wouldn't be perky in the slightest._

_However, when he walked in there was a huge mirror set up in front of her desk. She politely instructed him to stand in front of it and asked him a question he never thought she would have. "When you look in the mirror, what do you see?" Her voice so soft and soothing he almost answered nicely, but the Dixon poison set in and he informed her that he saw his reflection lacing his words with as much hate as possible._

_"No, Daryl. Do you see what I see?" She sounded so tired. Good; maybe she'd give up on him, just like his mom did and just like his dad was doing._

_"Depends on whatcha see, lady." His southern drawl was making him sound bored, which he was anything but._

_"I see a scared young man. A young man who has lost so much and gone through things no one should have to go through. I see someone who's struggling in life. Someone who just wants somebody to believe in them, somebody to comfort them, you want to feel loved. I see an amazingly intelligent you boy who can do anything he puts his mind to. I see someone with a really hard life who hates themselves and everyone around them." Their eyes met and she smiled at him. "But, I believe in you, I think you're gonna be great one day, Daryl, I can already see it in you. You're becoming great as we speak. But it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, good or bad. So I'm going to ask you again, what do you see? Who do you see?" She sounded so hopeful, he almost told her that he knew he was good deep down. That if he just dug far enough, maybe he could find it, maybe he would have friends and a brother who likes him, but he was a Dixon. And Dixon's don't do that._

_"I see Daryl Dixon, and you; an ugly and pathetic woman with no personal life and a stick up 'er ass. Maybe you should spend more time on yourself and fixing your problems than me." She simply nodded, thanked him for coming and said she would see him the next day. The entire way home he thought about what she had said, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could be the first Dixon boy to finish high school, go to college, and make a name for himself. But when he walked in to see his dad passed out on the couch, a bottle of liquor still in his grip and hear Merle do inappropriate things to a woman in the next room he just shook his head. No. Dixon's don't succeed, they're in the lower class._

He realized that it seemed his mind has decided for him and he was wallowing in self-pity. He shook his head and forced any old memories down again, wishing they would just leave him alone.

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Sooooo... That's that. I hope you enjoyed reading it.


	5. Unexpected threats and lies to cover up

Alrighty. I like his chapter... I feel like you get to know a little bit more about Alice's personality. Thank you so much to the-almost-invisible-kid for being a doll. She's my sister and stepped in to help me out as a beta. Mine said that she felt like she wasn't being of much help to me and decided to step down from the position. Anyway. I feel like October is much too far away. We should boycott and get the months changed around.

enjoy.

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For what felt like the hundredth time in just a few minutes she fixed her gaze on Daryl, he was cleaning his weapons, taking extra care of his crossbow. A bead of sweat trailed down her forehead and found its way into her eye. She blinked rapidly and swiped aggressively at it in an attempt to halt the burning now nestling itself deep in her eye socket. She wasn't sure why she blamed the handful of peanuts in her hand, but she did; and out of anger for the _obviously _guilty party, she threw the handful down and stormed away from the campfire. Life was just shitty. Who would have thought that the world would actually be overrun by zombies?

It was fun to think about in the pre-zombie era, - as she liked to refer to it - the thought that a disease would make a rational human being die, rise from the grave and crave flesh would have made her shake her head. Because she had always been very realistic, and the dead being dead was the norm, right? Not any more. Shaking her head she looked around and realized that she was much farther from the camp than she had intended, she was over by the small creek about a mile from camp. What was she thinking? She didn't even have a weapon, which wasn't particularly concerning until she heard a noise. Her eyes widened and she swiftly turned to begin scanning the forest around her. A fallen branch with dead leaves to her right. The ground covered in dead leaves, and dying plants.

_Snap._ Where had that come from? Her left? She checked, no. Her right? Again, nothing. Turning again she scanned the forest around her but still, she came up empty. When the sound of a throat being cleared met her ears she instinctively reached for her knife; when her hands grasped her hip instead, she turned to see the intruder and size them up.

Shane. She felt her face try to grimace at the sight of him. Instead, she plastered on an artificial smile and looked at him expectantly. When he asked her if she was lost she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Ever the hero, he could never pass up the opportunity to make someone feel helpless and then take credit for saving them. She shook her head in the nicest way she knew how, somewhere deep inside feeling uneasy about being alone with him in the forest, let alone without a way to protect herself.

The way he was looking at her made her wonder who would be her true enemy if a walker were to stumble upon them. She noted that there was a significantly large log to his right, if only could she reach it. He pointed out her lack of a weapon and stepped closer to her under the pretense of protection. But when she stepped back in alarm, she knew that he had seen the fear upon her features, his eyes narrowed and he sneered slightly.

"So, where'd you say you were from again?" He asked, walking forward slowly. He advanced like a predator stalking its prey, in a slow, calculated, intense manner. She matched every step he took with her own, moving backwards blindly. His squinted his eyes slightly when a few rays of sun that had peeked through the trees ghosted over his face. His features were expectant, waiting for her to answer.

Alice shook her head to each side a few times, and felt her hair begin to slip out from her elastic band's grip. "I didn't." She stated quietly.

The nod of his head seemed to end the conversation. He took a large step towards her, and then another. In her haste to do the same in reverse she stumbled slightly, lost her balance and groped the air for something to brace herself on. While her hand gripped nothing, her arm scraped down the trunk of a tree. She fought back the tears that formed in her eyes at the harsh contact. She registered Shane saying something to her about being careful, but she couldn't quite make out all of his words. "...be a shame if someone thought you'd been attacked, your redneck couldn't help you th..." She wasn't really paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

With great effort she took a breath and used the same tree that had assaulted her moments before to stand up. Leaning against the tree to assemble her thoughts, Alice focused on his words again. "...you now. What were you thinking you were going to do after you got out here? Pass the time whistling? There's nothing out here anymore.. No one around... Just you and me. You should be more careful, ya know... This far from camp, no one can her you scream and we wouldn't want that, would we?" The underlying threat caused her heart rate to speed up.

The closer he got the further her stomach dropped. What _exactly_ were his intentions? Just as her flight response was kicking in he began backing away slowly, eyes trained directly on her, a concerning smile invading his normally stoic features. When he was about twenty feet from her, he turned and began walking back toward camp. She had always had a bad feeling about Shane, but now it had blossomed. If she had the option of being locked in a room, weaponless, without a way of escape, with either Shane or a walker, she would pick the walker; hands down.

Slowly she followed after him, anxious to make it back to camp and be around guns. Lots and lots of guns. And Daryl, just as she began smiling at the thought of getting to see him, she remembered that she was mad at him, who kicks a dead squirrel at a teenager who is clearly upset about the killing of said animal? It was cruel. Dale was still sitting on top of his camper, although he wasn't alone anymore, Glenn was chatting him up. Just as she was about to exit the clearing someone grabbed her arm and covered her mouth, pulling her flush against a warm solid body.

She was about to swat at whoever was holding her, thinking it was a joke, but when the grip on her arm tightened she felt herself go stiff. "Shouldn't leave camp without a weapon." Shane snarled in her ear, the heat of his breath leaving a ticklish feeling on the side of her head. He shoved her forward a little, causing her to stumble slightly. "If I were you, I wouldn't say anything about this," He waved his hand between them. "to anyone."

He shoved his way past her and threw a casual smile on his face. "Found her!" He shouted up to the camper, Dale gave a thumbs up in response and continued to scan the area. Glenn rushed to the ladder, and all but jumped down it and ran towards her. It reminded her of a cartoon she used to watch, the way a cloud of dust found its way into the air behind him and how he kept stumbling over himself to get to her.

"Alice! Why'd you go running off like that? We were all worried sick!" He sounded like a distraught parent whose child had left the house without their permission. She opened her mouth to answer him but she caught sight of Shane, his eyes were fixed on her with raised eyebrows as a reminder to what he had said just moments before.

She swallowed thickly, "I just needed some fresh air and a moment of quiet to think. Luckily Shane found me, seems I had forgotten to take something to protect myself with." She smiled as best she could, she had always hated lying, especially now when there were only so many people left to lean on. Glenn looked surprised at her praise, glancing to Amy he saw that she wore a similar look. It seemed Alice's feeling towards Shane weren't as well hidden as she had assumed. Rick patted his friend and former colleague on the back and cast him an approving look. Alice ducked her head and walked away with her hands in her pockets.

She only looked up when she could barely hear everyone borderline worshiping Shane for saving her, as if she had been surrounded by a hoard of walkers. She saw her tent and picked up her pace trying to reach it and get away from feeling so ashamed. Ripping back the tent flap, she threw herself down on the makeshift bed. After she had gathered her thoughts and localized her frustration on Shane, she began mildly braiding and unbraiding her hair. At on point, she ran her finger through her hair before the braid was completely undone. She picked at the knot it had caused, but paused when she heard a crunching outside her tent and she turned to see T-Dog crouched down just outside of the opening. He was wearing an amused smirk. "What?" She demanded shortly.

His smirk grew slightly, "Nothing. Jus', I heard Shane _rescued_ you." He threw a hand over his heart and made a dramatic sway of his body, accompanied by a dreamy look gracing his features. If it had been anything else she would have laughed, but it only seemed to increase her bitter mood.

"Yeah, Shane the fuckin' hero." She didn't even care that her tone could easily have competed with Daryl's, she was tired of everyone worshiping a man who was nothing but evil.

T-Dog sat up and with raised eyebrows began coming into the tent. "Woah lil' lady, I didn't mean to make a big deal about it. I was just messin'. Girl, what's happein'?" His hand hovered over her arm, but it seemed he thought better about touching her so he resolved to placing his hand on his own knee.

Alice and T-dog had instantly hit it off. His easy going attitude and humor helped ease the frustration she felt toward the universe. "Not now Thomas." She said with a small twinkle in her eyes.

"Not my name, good guess though. Valiant effort, Darling." His voice took on a British accent momentarily before he became serious, "But seriously girl, what's the matta'?"

She glanced around conspiratorially and leaned in close and gestured for him to do the same. Dropping her voice, she spoke with purpose, "Shane isn't all he's cracked up to be." T-Dog nodded understandingly, "And he sure as hell isn't a hero. Nowhere near." The last portion of her sentence came out as a rushed whisper when she heard a rustling outside of the tent. When she jerked back abruptly T-Dog seemed to understand and did the same, without question.

"What's goin' on in here?" Shane stuck his head through the flap, eyes immediately going to Alice in warning.

T-Dog leaned back and got comfy, making sure Shane knew he wasn't leaving anytime soon. "Just checkin' up on ma' girl. What happened in the woods, man?" He wondered aloud; Alice tried not to look too alarmed at the abrupt question. Shane's eyes had strayed slightly to T-dog's when he had spoken, but snapped back to Alice the moment he had asked about the woods. He searched for any guilt on her face, but came up empty.

He plastered on a very big and very fake smile and even threw on a hearty chuckle for good measure. "What'd she tell you?" To the naked ear Shane sounded completely nonchalant, but T-dog knew better; there wasn't an innocent bone in that man's body. No matter how had he tried to convince everyone of it. Also taking into account what Alice had said, it didn't seem like he was as heroic as it was being played off.

Not hesitating for even a second, he lied with amazing ease, "She's been chatting' you up, man. Said you saved her from a walker 'n everything. Thanks, bro. I know we all really appreciate it."

Shane seemed to believe every word and began adding to the story without pause. "Yeah, he was a nasty one, missing an arm, half o' his face was just plain gone; it was runnin' too. If I hadn't come to her rescue, we might've been visited by walker Alice." Another creepy chuckle escaped his lips and assaulted their ears, he gave a nod of finality and one last warning glance to Alice, then he was gone.

They sat in silence for a few moments, each seeming to soak up the other's presence before T-dog finally spoke, "You didn't encounter a walker, did you?" He inquiry was quiet, not insistent in the least, just curious.

"No," A sigh slipped out through her chapped lips. "And he didn't rescue me. Doesn't matter, he told me not to talk about it. Yet, here I am."

His eyebrows shot up to his forehead, Shane didn't tell, he insisted. "Did he threaten you?" He didn't know why he was even asking, of course he had.

"Doesn't matter. Either way, Daryl can't find out that Shane didn't save me. I'd rather him mad at me for not taking a weapon than at Shane for..." She trailed off knowing that he got it. "Daryl only needs one more reason to kill Shane and then he will." She dropped her head into her hands again and shook it gently.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want Shane dead..." The humor was evident in his voice.

She couldn't help but chuckle a little too. "Yeah, that would be..." She trailed off looking for an adequate adjective to describe it. "Bad." She gave up after searching for a few seconds. "But seriously, I don't want to be the one that makes Daryl kill Shane."

"You're the _only_ one that could make Daryl kill _any_one." T-dog said standing up, all humor gone from his voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked in surprise.

"He's only concerned if it concerns you." Not giving her an opportunity to deny his words he stepped out of the tent and walked away. Alice began trying to remember what had even started this whole mess, because it definitely wasn't just sweat in her eye. What had it been? Yes, she had been hot. Yes, she had been tired. Yes, she hated sweating. But that couldn't have been all. As she thought back she remembered Daryl had been sitting in front of her on his tailgate, never once looking up, never once looking at her. She wondered if it was childish to feel ignored by a man who she couldn't even rightfully call her own.

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I hope you enjoyed that, and I hope my diligent commenting on other people's work brings me good karma in all of you commenting. I've been fighting favorites between my two stories. I get so much more feedback from my other story and I'm telling myself that it'll eventually pick up over here, but I'm just not sure. If no one comments on this chapter, I'll have the same amount of chapters that I do of reviews. And that's only because I had someone review as a guest and then sign in to tell me who they really were. That doesn't even count!

Rant over. I'd love to hear from you, reviews make me work harder on the story. :))


	6. The Destruction of Hope

It's Wednesday. Thanks to everyone who has followed and favorited this story! It makes me smile to see new names pop up in my email. Huge thanks to my beta, the-almost-invisible-kid, for perfecting my mistakes. :)

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Everything she had once believed could protect her had not only not protected her but was no longer around for it to even be an option. For instance, the military, they had always protected America from dangers; or they had died trying. And that's exactly what had happened, they had died, every last one of them. For what? What had they accomplished? Adding to the ever-growing army of the undead, that's what. Not exactly something to brag about if you asked her.

Her father was another, he had sworn to do everything in his power to keep her and her sister from harm; she didn't know what had happened, had he become one of them? Had he died trying to protect her mother? Or was it similar to her experiences? She fought her thoughts and attempted to focus on the task at hand but found herself questioning anything strange in the last few months. Had it been quick, overnight even? Or had this been going on for years and the government had been keeping it under wraps until they just couldn't anymore?

That's what had happened in all the movies. It starts out with someone, alone in a dark house, preferably sleeping. And once they've been attacked, it moves to some super-secret, underground facility where they have an elite team of scientists examining one of the zombies. Then to the president, normally as similar in appearance to the current president as possible, and the team that is informing him of the epidemic.

Then to the outbreak, which then causes all hell to break loose across the country, maybe even the world. About the end of the movie, they tie off all the loose ends, anyone they showed struggling, you get closure, or not. And they normally round it back off to the person at the beginning, still alone, maybe dead, maybe alive; doesn't matter.

What matters is, that's exactly how the course of action goes. Except, this wasn't the movie, the government is dead, and these random group of crazy people in the middle of it? There isn't exactly a nice ending written by a bunch of twisted minds for them. A sad and twisted ending, for sad and twisted people in a sad and twisted world. Poetic almost, almost.

Alice lifted her gaze from the spot on the ground and allowed her eyes to dart easily around the area, she was supposed to be searching for anything useful in these cars. But the more she looked around her the more she thought of whose car it was, what had happened to them and what had sealed their fate. Shaking her head again she looked into the car directly to her right, it seemed pretty normal in the front, there was even a pack of twenty-four waters in the front. She smiled triumphantly and attempted to put out of her mind that the waters were someone else's.

Maybe this would change Daryl's mind about her being useless, then again anyone could have found them, right? She mentally noted the small click that accompanied the door opening, and with one hand on the package of water bottles and one hand on the seat, she pulled forward. _Wait. What was that sound?_ A small groan, snatching her head up and reaching for her knife she looked around warily. Visibly, there was nothing. But she could hear wheezing. She took a deep breath and frowned when she realized she could no longer pick out the smell of death in the air, what had she become?

Alice began searching the car, the glove box held hand sanitizer which she added to the passenger seat. Leaning in to check the middle console, she noticed the wheezing had picked up a notch. It was more erratic, like a walker could now see, as well as smell their prey. She felt her body freeze, it was coming from her left, she turned her head and was met with a sight the made her head spin and her stomach lurch.

There was a baby, or what remained of it in the floor board twitching and wheezing, it had been torn to pieces, but was starving for a little bit of her flesh. A sob escaped her body right before the whoosh of air. Nausea was bubbling throughout her body and she felt dizzy. Right as she was about to call out to someone, not caring if it was even Shane, someone grabbed her arm and dragged her to the ground.

The first reaction her mind thought up was to fight back, that it might be a walker, but then her mind analysed the hand. The pressure was gentle but insistent. Determined and slightly desperate. She recognized the touch. There was a hand over her mouth and while a month ago she would have screamed, she knew this time it was for her own protection, the hand and was to inform her not to scream. She felt herself being pushed under a car. She looked up and saw Daryl holding a finger to his lips, he ran off before she could say anything.

She slid closer to the middle of the car, and kept quiet. If this was all just a cruel joke on the new girl, she would find out soon enough. She took a deep breath to hopefully steady her breathing; in and out, in and out. She focused. Something a few inches from her face caught her attention, an action figure. Captain America, she believed. She let out a small breath of a chuckle, and reached forward for it. Carl might like it.

Right as her hand reached forward she stopped, leaving it suspended in mid-air. There was a groan coming from her right, or was it her left? A limping figure began to pass the car she was under, a walker, she presumed. She began to wonder why someone hadn't just dealt with it, it was, after all just one walker. Right as the question formed inside of her brain she saw another set of feet shuffle by, then another and another. She lost count as they surrounded the car and kept moving in the direction Daryl had run in.

The muscles in her arm screamed with fevered agitation as she hadn't moved it even an inch since she had heard the first growl. She was sure her labored breathing would attract one or two of the unnameable amount of walkers scattering this section of the highway. But the amount of noise they were making could easily cover up her loud exhales.

The shuffling had become so mundane that she hardly noticed the pair of legs that hesitated next to her. She watched as they swayed slightly trying to stay upright. Ruby red, sparkling flats, a pair of shoes she would never have thought she would have seen again. She had always wanted a pair when she was younger but her parents, regretfully, couldn't afford them.

_The click-clack of her shoes on the floor didn't bother her, and her mother could have cared less, or so it seemed. No one around the small girl gave notice to her abnormally cheerful attitude. They were looking for a tie for her father. Alice wondered briefly why he needed so many, after all, she didn't have a single tie and she was just fine with it. Her arm bounced up and down along with her body and caused her mother's arm to swing slightly. Several times she had glanced down at her daughter wanted to scold her for her behavior, but then she would remember her father and how he wouldn't allow her to do anything that could be considered childish; each time she would smile at the frivolity and go back to her search._

_Passing the shoe section Alice glanced to her right, where all the girl's shoes were. All of her friends had the brand new, ruby red, sparkling, Dorthy slip-ons with a golden buckle on the strap. What she would have done to have gotten those. She stopped jumping, stopped walk, even halted her breathing for a moment. She allowed her mind to reel over all of the friends she might have if she could just own those shoes. A small gasp left her lips when it occurred to her that she might have a chance with Josie Perkins, the richest, prettiest, smartest girl in school. Maybe she could be Alice [GOOGLE THAT SHIT SON! IM NOT A MAGIC LAST BAME MACHINE. BARTON? NO THATS LAME.], Josie Lee Perkins' best friend._

_Her daydream halted when her mother began to tug on her hand insisting that they didn't have the time or the money for such a pair of shoes. A pathetic nod and a small agreement later she followed after her mother, trying extremely hard to not hate her parents. Why did her dad need so many ties anyway?_

Her memory began to fade and become more of a horror story as she focused on the left foot; the ankle devoid of any flesh, the foot twisted in an unnatural, deformed position. Their club foot was broken at the ankle, and splattered blood covered the shoe. She felt her stomach lurch as she allowed her mind to wonder if it had been their own blood or one of their victims.

The feet began to fidget, shifting slowly, turning in her direction; in all of a few seconds she had been placed under the safety of a vehicle, but all she could feel in that moment was trapped. If this walker looked under this car, she didn't have a weapon, nor did she have anywhere to go. Briefly she wished Daryl hadn't left her, another warm, alive body near hers would have done wonders to soothe her erratic heart beat.


	7. Expect the unexpected

Sorry I'm a few days late on this one. I had a lot on my plate this week. Hey-Oh to my beta, the-almost-invisible-kid, you're super awesome. Thank you!

enjoy.

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Daryl stayed as still as he could, he had really wanted to slide under the car with Alice, using the need to rush as an excuse. But T-Dog seemed to be stuck on something and as much as he wanted to be pressed up against her in a very small space, he was the only one close enough to help him in time. He couldn't let one of the only people who didn't seem to have a problem with him, get eaten in front of the entire group.

He ran over to him and assessed the issue, he seemed to have his arm caught in a wire, or something. He scanned the area around him quickly, the walkers were closing in fast. There were only bodies. His frown deepened as he corrected himself, corpses. He tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows, he could always... There wasn't any time.

He unwrapped T-Dog's arm and threw a dead man over top of him, there was a lot of blood on his arm; he hoped they couldn't smell it through the pungent reak of dead bodies all around. He threw himself to the ground in such a way that he could still see the car Alice was under. He drug a body on top of him and tried not to breath. He looked at Alice, she was concentrated on the ground right in front of her, she seemed confused.

His lungs screamed for fresh air, his head was throbbing. Taking a shallow breath through his mouth - so as not to smell the vile scent of what was on top of him - he watched Alice's face break out into a smile. She was moving her arm for something. _Don't do it. Don't move._ He inwardly chanted. When he realized she was reaching for something and not getting out he sighed. He closed his eyes in an attempt to regulate his breathing, but when he opened them he was surrounded by feet. Why hadn't he heard them? Why couldn't he hear them?

The pounding in his ears was so loud, he hadn't realized how close all of them were. He stopped looking at all of the shuffling feet and back to Alice, but he couldn't see her through the sea of zombies. He clenched his jaw, grinding the rows of his teeth together as a punishment for leaving her alone under the car. What if she was scared? What if she panicked and did something stupid? What if she dies? Or worse, gets turned into a walker?

Right as he was about to begin reasoning with himself, what Merle might say if he could see him now popped into his head. _Why do you care? If you were with her and she did somethin' stupid, you'd both be dead. Everyone dies eventually, Darlene. So what if she gets turned into a walker? If she can't handle 'erself, she deserves it! Quit wasting your energy on a piece of ass that won't put out._

He would have taken all his words in stride if he had said them to his face, but in his head he defended the woman who had wormed her way into his heart. No matter how cold and dark it might be.

_Because I do care._ He thought. _At least I would have died having held her at least once._ Blinking slowly he let a smile creep onto his face as he almost said the words running through his brain, _she's not a waste._ All of the sudden there was a shift in the flow. They started turning back, then running. He wanted to know what the hell was happening, and he wanted to know now. He looked to the car Alice was under but they were running right by it, he let out a sigh of relief.

The rotting flesh bumping into each other all around them was beginning to thin significantly. A small shuffling in the distance didn't catch his attention considering he was surrounded by walkers. What he did notice, however, was the sense of urgency in the air. The walkers seemed to get louder all of the sudden, their groans had a touch of thirst to them. Almost like they had caught a whiff of something they craved.

He hadn't noticed that his body had begun to relax slightly until it tensed again when this realization washed over him. Maybe he was being paranoid, it's possible that he was just imagining it. He couldn't ignore the extra struggle happening near him, someone panting. That's when he heard it; a scream. His eyes snapped back to the car Alice was under but she was staring straight at him in alarm. If he didn't get up and do something, she might try to. He scanned the ground around him and didn't see any walkers. In the blink of an eye he threw the corpse off of him and stood up.

He jogged over to where Alice was and dropped to his knees. "Don't get out from under this car until me or Glenn come to get you, okay?" He whispered urgently. "Please, Alice, for once just don't fight me." He added when she began to protest. The last thing he saw before he took off running toward the camper were her white knuckles wrapped around some sort of toy.

He stayed as low to the ground as he could, his bow gripped tightly in his hands. He noticed Rick in front of him crouched down, he had heard the scream as well and had come out of hiding to investigate. There was a noise in the camper and Daryl made eye contact with Rick and nodded. He made his way over to the camper and went inside. He recoiled slightly at the sight that was before him.

"It's-" Andrea began panting. "Not as bad as it looks." She let out a small chuckle and the both stared at the gaping wound on her upper arm. They both knew a bite from a walker was fatal, but that didn't make it any easier to watch good people die. "Make it quick, yeah?" She requested quietly. Daryl nodded and when she shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the cabinet, he tookaim and fired one of his bolts through her temple. He hadn't ever like Andrea, but she didn't deserve this.

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Andrea is dead! Ah! Who saw that coming? No one most likely, because I didn't set it up at all. But! She's still dead. I'm sorry if you're an Andrea fan. I never have been and I never will be. Let me know what you're thinking.

An update in my personal life: I bought a fish a few days ago, a betta fish, and I named him Sheldon Junior. He died the night I got him. So I bought another fish yesterday, I named her Sheldon Junior 2 of the female variety (Shelly for short). Here's hoping she survives... I bought a fish because my dog hates me.


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